


Reality of Nightmares

by niggletsune



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Perspective, Canon Divergence, F/M, Kidnapping, Other, season 3b
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niggletsune/pseuds/niggletsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> <b> “They’re never gonna find you.” </b></em> </p><p>Lydia's been kidnapped by the Nogitsune, he's been controlling her mind to give himself power, bringing about her worst nightmares.<br/><em>            "So tell me, Lydia, is Allison really dead?" </em><br/><em>            "Does Stiles really love someone else?"</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strapped to Endure

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on [this gifset](http://brogitsune.tumblr.com/post/97919690044/theyre-never-gonna-find-you-dark-stydia-au) by [brogitsune](brogitsune.tumblr.com) on tumblr. This is also a gift to the [nogi nightclub](http://us21.chatzy.com/noginightclub). 

             _She was gone_. This was all that Stiles knew, he’s been split from the Nogitsune who had taken Lydia and now she was gone. It had been a month since he’d take her, each day for them was worse, each day their hope dulled. Allison, Scott, Stiles, Isaac, everyone, they had no clue where to find her. “We’re doing everything we can,” Stiles’ dad always said. “We’ll find her,” Scott continuously tried to assure him. But Stiles didn’t believe it anymore. He knew the statistics; the chances of finding her after this long were slim to none. She was gone and it was entirely his fault, because he wasn’t strong enough.

 

The Nogitsune attached his vice-like grip to her arm and pulled, drawing out the pain from the emotional trauma he’d been inflicting. When he finished feeding he smiled, satiable for the moment.

“Wake up, Lydia,” he laughed darkly.

The banshee opened her heavy eyelids and as per usual her breaths began accelerating, coming out in panting rasps. Her surroundings were dark but familiar. She opened her mouth to scream but something stopped her, déjà vu. She’d been here before, they’d done this before.

            “Are you having sweet dreams, Lydia?” his face was that of Stiles’ but his words, movements, and intentions were completely opposite.

Lydia struggled against the restraints he had her placed in. “Please just let me go,” she pleaded. “Please, you could run. They’d never find you. If you let me go they wouldn’t even look.”

            “Interesting bargain, but you’re just so delectable,” he smiled and ran a hand down the length of her face. “I’m not quite ready to part with you, Lydia, not yet.”

Lydia sobbed, turning her head away from him. She just wanted to go home.

            “I’ll take the restraints off, I’m done feeding now. But just tell me, what happened, Lydia? What happened now?”

 

            Allison was dead. This was the first thought Lydia had every time she woke up. Her arrow had worked, the silver destroyed the Oni, and the katana had destroyed her. Lydia remembered screaming in the halls of the internment camp, Stiles passed out beneath her. She knew he was dying too. If the Nogitsune was never defeated, Stiles would die.

            Lydia remembered Chris showing up next, Derek finding Lydia slumped over an even more slumped over Stiles, he’d only found them so quickly because he heard Lydia’s weeping. She remembered Derek standing her up, hugging her even, before he picked up Stiles and carried him to his car. She stayed in the hall for just a moment to collect herself before going out. The scene was horrible. There was blood on her lips, the same crimson shade of the nail polish on her fallen hand. Lydia felt like she was going to be sick, she clutched her stomach, waiting for it to come but it never did. Chris’ face was dark, void of any emotion except the pain that reflected in his crystal blue eyes. He rallied them together. “We have to come up with a story,” he said solemnly.

            “Scott, look at me,” he knelt down to the wolf in despair. “You have to remember, you called me first,” he continued to hammer the details of the plan into everyone’s minds. We called her dad first. There were two of them. They tried to steal our car. They wore masks. One of them had a knife, we _think_ it was a knife.

            “It happened so fast,” Lydia said in a faraway voice to Deputy Parrish, “it just happened so fast,” she bit back a sob. She closed her eyes, a tear falling out and turned away. She was unable to say, to lie anymore.

 

            “Allison’s dead,” she whispered as she sat up in the bed. “Allison’s dead,” the words hurt her in her chest like a stab wound.

The Nogitsune paced the room. “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he clicked the sound with his tongue. “You’re wrong, Lydia, again. Like always.”

Her green eyes flitted up to his. “What do you mean?” she questioned. “I watched her die.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Did you?” he smirked. “Doesn’t something seem off to you? Nothing’s even a little odd?”

Lydia looked around. He was keeping her at her grandma’s lake house, she realized. “The lake house,” she said. “How are we here? My mother, my father, my friends...they’d all look here.”

            “They did,” he confessed, “but that was weeks ago.”

 _Weeks?_ No, weeks couldn’t be right. He’d taken her just yesterday. But when she tried to sift through her memories she hit a wall, causing her head to feel like her brain was slipping in half. She screamed in agony, clutching her skull.

The nogitsune sighed at her like a small child. “I tried to tell you not to do that,” he grabbed her by her hair and threw her back on the bed while she continued to scream in pain. “Here, Lydia,” he smiled as he restrained her. “Have a memory.”

 

            The sun was shining in the sky and Lydia felt like it was an insult. The sky should be weeping for her, the world should be weeping for her, god knows that’s all Lydia had been doing. She felt like she hadn’t stopped crying since it happened. It didn’t help that people kept coming to see her, bringing food and cards with condolences, all of friends of her mother’s and people from school. She didn’t want their condolences; she just wanted to be left alone. That was, until Stiles came. She knew he would. It took a few days, a few days for him to get stronger, fight whatever the nogitsune had done, but she knew he’d come. Stiles always came.

            “Hey,” he said. He sat at the end of her bed while she lay obscured by the closed curtains and all of the covers over her. She had a headache from the screaming she’d been doing in her sleep, the dark made it throb less. “It’s today,” Stiles sighed. “Your mom laid out a dress. I thought I’d drive you, in your own car of course, unless you wanted me to drive the Jeep then we can take the Jeep and I’ll just drive you like that,” leave it to Stiles to babble on.

            “No,” her voice was raspy. It was from the crying and screaming. Her nightmares never faltered.

            “No you don’t want me to drive you or not you don’t want to take the Jeep?”

            “No, I don’t want to go,” she said flatly.

Stiles sighed. “I know. None of us do. But we have to, for Allison.”

Her name was like a dagger to the chest. “I’m not going, Stiles.”

            “Lydia, come on,” he pleaded.

She stayed quiet. When Stiles came around to face her she turned silently. Abruptly, the blankets disappeared from her body, the cold air hit her soft skin and Lydia sat up in rage. “Hey! Give them back!” she yelled at Stiles.

            “No,” he said firmly, “because you’re going. Lydia,” he gritted his teeth, “you’d hate yourself if you didn’t do this for her. She was your best friend and you have to go to her funeral. No matter how sad, cliché, and awful it is you have to be there. Argent has no family; today we have to be his family. Allison would want us to,” they were both crying by then, Lydia hugging her arms around herself, Stiles gripping the blankets tightly. “So get out of bed, put on your black dress, do your hair, put on makeup or don’t and meet me down stairs in twenty minutes,” he turned to leave but stopped when Lydia called “Stiles,” in a hushed tone, he turned back, raising a brow. “Thank you,” she smiled weakly. He nodded before exiting.

 

            It was sad and cliché and horrible. All of the things Stiles had promised it would be. When they arrived the parking lot was full, they had to find a spot way in the back. Stiles offered to drop Lydia off at the door but she declined, she really just didn’t want to be alone. They walked up to the church doors and Lydia halted outside of them. Then, she felt Stiles’ fingers slip through hers. He gave her hand a squeeze and when she looked up he had a reassuring smile on his face. “We can do this,” he said before they opened the doors. Lydia felt the death hanging in the air it was thick and choking. She bit back a scream.

 

            “Allison Argent left this world too soon, her life was short lived but her memory goes on,” the priest said. Lydia sat in between Scott and Stiles, clenching both of their hands. Every single second she sat there, staring at the closed coffin, she had the urge to bolt. Scott and Stiles grounded her. “If anyone would like to say a few words about Allison, the time is now.”

Lydia took a deep breath and leaned over to look down at Chris. He nodded with a tight lipped smiled. She detangled herself from Scott and Stiles and smoothed her dress before approaching the podium. “Allison Argent was one of the most astonishing humans I’ve ever met. She was kind, strong, and brave but most of all she was my best friend,” Lydia had gone over the speech so many times it was like reciting a song. She’d done it so she didn’t cry when she gave it. She didn’t need anyone to see her cry. “The moment I met her I knew she was a force to be reckon with as am I and we clicked instantly. From that day forward I knew I’d never have another friend as good as Allison. I still won’t. Her memory rests in our hearts forever,” Lydia ended her eulogy.

 

            A few of Allison’s teachers spoke next. But it was a surprise to everyone when Sheriff Stilinski stepped up to the podium.

            “I didn’t know Allison overly well but I know something else. As the sheriff I’ve seen some of the bravest gals and guys come through my department. But I’ve never seen anyone with bravery or selflessness like Allison had. She was so strong. My son went through some problems these past few months and Allison led her friends in trying to solve those problems. I owe a lot to Allison because my son is alive and well today. She is one that will be very missed,” the Sheriff stepped down and Chris stepped up. Sheriff Stilinski laid a hand on Chris’ shoulder before taking his place behind Stiles.

            “Thank you everyone for coming today,” Chris cleared his throat, “I’ve had a lot of funerals in Beacon Hills. My sister’s, my wife’s, but I’ll tell you I never expected to attend my daughter’s. Allison was my whole world, I did everything in my power to protect her, but this time I couldn’t,” Lydia’s bottom lip was trembling, her grip on Stiles and Scott’s hands tightened as she fought back tears. “I’ll never forget the day Allison was born, mostly because I knew it was the day I’d never get a full night’s sleep again. I’d always be fighting something off for her; sickness, bullies, boys,” he looked sternly at Scott then Isaac, earning a chuckle from the crowd, “I’ll still fight for her. I’ll never stop fighting. _Dans nos coeurs, elle va rester;_  in our hearts she’ll stay.” Chris climbed down from the podium. The priest got back up and ended the ceremony with a few final words.

 

            Lydia stared at the floor, her hands were now in her lap, her fingernails red like Allison’s were the day she died. When Lydia looked back up, there Allison was, dead in her open coffin. The crimson was still tainted on her lips. Lydia jumped up and rushed to the coffin, Allison lay still but only for a moment, her eyes snapped open and she put on a blood-splattered smile. “Wake up, Lydia,” she did, **screaming**.

 

 


	2. Dazed and Confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably be compiling a playlist for this at some point!

Stiles sat in Derek’s apartment dosing off while the pack talked around him. They did that a lot these days. No one wanted to speak directly to Stiles for fear that he’d go spiraling. No one wanted Stiles to do much of anything since he didn’t seem to be getting any better now that the Nogitsune hadn’t been found and killed. The split was still taking a toll on his body.

Weirdly enough he’d spent a lot of nights on Derek’s couch, he usually fell asleep before the pack meetings were over, too exhausted to keep up his healthy façade any longer. He always woke up with a blanket over him in the morning. Stiles opened his eyes yet again to find himself in the loft. He dropped his head with a sigh, banging it on the hard part of the couch.

“Fuck,” he cursed, rubbing it. He let his head loll over to the side where he noticed Derek was sitting in an armchair, a book in hand. “Nu-aah,” Stiles made a frightened sound. “How long have you been there?”

Derek looked up from his book. “Long enough to see you look like an idiot,” Derek smirked.

Stiles rolled his eyes and sat up slowly. His body ached all over, he felt like crap and he knew probably looked like it too by the way that Derek seemed to want to jump on him. “What?”

            “How bad is the pain today?” Derek asked.

Stiles shrugged. “No different than every other day.”

Derek sighed and put his book down on the table. He simply touched Stiles’ arm and his veins turned to black sludge, drawing up the pain. He gripped harder, focusing in on taking it away and soon before he knew it he could feel his fangs growing and growl building low in his throat. Derek took a breath and let go. “Better?” he asked, panting.

Stiles nodded wordlessly. “Yeah, thanks. I should uh…” he scratched the back of his neck, “I should go.”

            “Right,” Derek answered as Stiles slipped on his shoes and grabbed his phone.

Stiles turned when he got to the door. “Thanks for letting me crash here, again,” he added.

Derek bobbed his head awkwardly. “Hey, Stiles?” he addressed. Stiles raised his eyebrows in question. “Are you,” Derek paused, “are you okay?”

Stiles’ brows scrunched together. “Yeah, fine,” he pouted slightly. “Why?”

            “With Lydia being gone and you not getting better, you’re having nightmares aren’t you?”

A scene of Lydia bound to a chair, screaming for help with tears running down her cheeks crossed over Stiles’ mind. The Nogitsune feeding on her, making her writhe in pain infiltrated his thoughts. “No more than usual,” he misrepresented.

            “It’s usual for you to have nightmares every night, almost two sometimes even three times per night?” Derek probed.

Stiles glared. “Sometimes, yeah, Derek. If you haven’t noticed Lydia’s missing and I’m still attached to some evil fox spirit who has probably killed her by now and if not then he’s probably torturing her, so if I have a few nightmares a night about the girl I love disappearing, then that’s what happens.”

            “Stiles, I didn’t mean to pry. You’re here and I hear you, I just wanted you to know that if you wanted to talk about them,” he let the line drop.

Stiles’ jaw clenched. “Thanks, but no.” then he left.

 

            “Hey, dad, any leads?” Stiles called as he walked in the house, sifting through the mail he’d just retrieved from the mailbox.

            “Hey, yeah he just walked in. Sure, Parrish I’ll be down in a bit,” the Sheriff hung up the phone and approached his son. “Where the hell have you been?”

His brown eyes searched his father’s face, trying to make sense of the fact that he was angry. “I fell asleep at Derek’s last night,” Stiles laughed, “it’s not the first time it’s happened, dad.”

            “Stiles, your friend is missing and there’s a serial killing double of you running free and Scott’s got a pretty good idea that if he kills you he stays strong. I just want you to call if you end up staying anywhere,” his father pulled him into a solid hug. “I can’t have anything happening to you.”

            “Dad, I’m fine,” Stiles murmured into his shoulder. They broke from the hug. “I just fell asleep, I’ll have Derek text if it happens again.”

The Sheriff gave Stiles a skeptical look. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Derek in this past month.”

Stiles shrugged. “We have pack meetings there, his loft is big enough to hold us all. I’m just so tired and I don’t really do anything but read books or try to online research while everyone tries to come up with a place that the Nogitsune would have her. I just end up falling asleep. Derek said he didn’t mind.”

            “Are you guys becoming friends?” the Sheriff questioned, smiling at his son.

Stiles scoffed. “Friends? With Derek Hale? Ha!” he laughed, “no, dad. We just have pack nights there and I fall asleep. His loft is big enough for everyone. You met the guy, do you think I could be friends with a broody werewolf who practically stalked me and my best friend our entire sophomore year?”

The Sheriff threw his hands up. “Say no more, sorry I asked.”

Stiles smiled. “I’m gonna go shower, you heading out to work?”

            “You better hurry, I already called you out for first hour.”

Stiles furrowed his brows. “What?”

            “School, Stiles. It’s Monday,break is over.”

Stiles’ eyes bugged in disbelief, he’d completely forgotten he had to go back to school. “I’m gonna take another day, you know just in case.”

Sheriff Stilinski sighed, laying a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I know you want to wait for your friend to come home, but sitting around all day isn’t going to do anything, Stiles, go to school.”

            “Dad,” Stiles began, passion rising in his chest. “Lydia isn’t just a friend, you know this, everyone knows this. I’ve been in love with this girl since the freaking third grade and now she’s gone dad, she’s gone and I can’t sit in school and look at her empty seat and wonder-,” he cut off, his vision starting to swim and his chest tightening; panic attack. He’d been having so many lately. “I can’t—I can’t,” he gasped, grabbing his shirt and trying to regulate his breaths. “Dad,” his eyes burned with fresh tears. The Sheriff put him into a tight hug. “Hey, hey, Stiles breathe. It’s going to be okay. We’re doing everything we can to find her.”

Stiles felt his dad’s breaths against him, trying to match them. “Everything isn’t working,” his voice broke. “What if she never comes home, dad? What if we never find her? Or, what if we do and she’s-,” his bit his tongue, unable to finish the sentence.

            “I won’t settle for that. I’m going to bring Lydia home. Okay? Have some faith. He didn’t take her just to kill her, I don’t know anything about the Nogitsune but I know he wouldn’t take Lydia just to kill her. So take a breath, get in the shower and go to school. I promise I’ll call if we have any leads at all.”

Stiles nodded against his shoulder. “Okay,” he pulled apart and took another ragged breath. “Thanks, Dad.”

The Sheriff smiled at him. “It’s what I’m here for, now run along. You have to make second period.”

Stiles treaded heavily up the stairs, hopelessness hanging in his chest. He didn’t have faith; he didn’t think Lydia would ever be found.

 

***

            Lydia stood at her locker, trying to focus on getting her books for the next class but all she could focus on was Stiles standing with Malia, the new girl, his arm wrapped around her waist. Malia laughed at something he said and Stiles threw his head back in return, his mouth wide open, his brown eyes alight with glee. Lydia wanted to be the one to make him laugh.

            “You’re staring again,” a voice said from behind her. Lydia jumped, spinning around to see Derek. Surprisingly, they’d gotten close after Allison’s death. Stiles found solace in Malia and Lydia found solace in friendship with Derek. He’d found her at the grave a week after Allison’s funeral. She was crumpled, leaning against it; barely breathing as her chest felt like it was caving in on her. He’d scooped her up and taken her back to his place. He made her talk through her grief, he let her cry, he let her get angry, but most of all he turned it into something she could project. She didn’t want to feel helpless anymore she wanted to be able to protect her friends so he started teaching her how to.

            “What are you doing here?” Lydia smiled at him as if she hadn’t been staring intently at Stiles and his girlfriend.

            “You left this at my house,” he handed her a cardigan. “It’s cold today,” he didn’t say anything further.

Lydia laughed. “Derek the big bad wolf cares if I get cold,” Lydia patted his chest playfully. “Thank you,” she grinned.

Derek managed to smile back. “Are we training today?”

Lydia slammed her locker shut, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “Yeah, I just have some Portuguese to study for a bit then I’ll be over. Takeout at your place?”

            “Why don’t we go out?” Derek asked.

Lydia didn’t think anything of it. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll see you around four-thirty?”

            “See you then,” Derek spotted Scott, Stiles and Malia heading towards he and Lydia. “I’m gonna head out,” he slipped away before they arrived.

            “What’s Derek doing here?” Stiles asked, watching him go.

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. “I left this at his house,” Lydia gestured to the cardigan on her arm, “he was just returning it.”

Stiles furrowed his brows at her, scrutinizing. Malia’s head snapped up and turned to Stiles. “You’re angry,” she sounded.

Stiles took a deep breath. “No, I’m fine,” he took Malia’s hand, “let’s go to class.”

Lydia turned to Scott. “Have anything to say?” she raised her eyebrows.

Scott laughed and shook his head. “Nope. You make your own decisions.”

Lydia’s eyes bugged. “You think I’m sleeping with Derek?!”

            “I didn’t say that,” Scott replied, they started walking down the hall towards class.

Lydia huffed. “But Stiles thinks so. Oh my god. My second werewolf boyfriend just died, do you really think I would go for another werewolf? Granted, Jackson isn’t really dead but still!” she was appalled.

            “I’m just telling you what Stiles thinks,” Scott confessed, “Derek told me he’s helping you learn self defense. I think it’s a good idea. I think you and Stiles should both learn self defense.”

            “Why, because we’re helpless?”

            “No,” Scott said sincerely. “Because you’re a weakness. Any enemy we have can use you to hurt us. I’d feel so much better if you guys knew how to protect yourselves, with things other than bats in Stiles’ case.”

            “Good thing I’m spending my time learning about that instead of sleeping with Derek Hale then, huh?”

Scott smiled. “You doing okay?”

Lydia nodded. “Some days are better, some are worse. You?”

            “You guys help, I wouldn’t be anywhere without all of you.”

Scott squeezed her hand before slipping into class and into his seat. Lydia took her usual spot and noticed Stiles was in the seat next to her.

            “For the record,” she glowered at him, “I’m not sleeping with Derek Hale.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped. “I uh-,”

            “And if I was, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”

Stiles flicked his eyes to the ceiling then angled his body so that he wasn’t facing Lydia. He had no right to be upset. He gave up on her, like everyone always did.

 

            “Lydia, Lydia, Lydia,” the Nogitsune’s voice was at her ear, bringing her from her comatose state.

 _Allison’s dead. Stiles is in love with someone else._ These were her immediate thoughts.

            “Have you rethought about what’s actually going on here?” he took the belts off to let her sit up.

            “Alison’s dead, Stiles is in love with someone else,” her voice was far away. “When did you take me? How long have I been here?”

The Nogitsune laughed. “It’s been one sweet, sweet month Lydia Martin. Your power is so satisfying. Your brain is truly beautiful, I’ve always appreciated smart girls,” he smiled darkly at her. “Are you sure what you’re thinking is true?”

Lydia’s head snapped up. “Why are you doing this? Please, just let me go.”

            “Why do you think your friends haven’t come? Do you think they’re too busy, worrying about other things? Grieving over ‘Allison’ maybe?”

Lydia wanted to grieve over Allison. She needed to grieve over her like she needed air to breathe. “I just want to go home,” her voice broke.

            “In time, Lydia. But I’d like to see if your friends come first.”

            “What do you need me for?” Lydia was angry now.

The Nogitsune laughed and stroked her hair, smiling. “I love it when you’re angry,” the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “Your power is like none other, Lydia. Don’t you understand that? You’re linked to the spirit world, I’m a spirit. I can use you for so many things,” he smiled as he imagined all the destruction he could cause.

            “Are you ever going to let me go?” she asked.

The Nogitsune crouched down to come face to face with her. He brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. “Of course,” he said, “once I have enough power to do what I need to.”

            “What’s that?” Lydia asked.

He laughed again, in his throat, looking her deep in the eyes. “To kill Stiles.”

 

           

            Stiles was staying at Derek’s again and they weren’t even having a pack meeting. He’d somehow ended up at there after school. He hadn’t even meant to drive to the loft, but his dad wasn’t home and Scott and Isaac were at lacrosse practice, which Stiles wasn’t allowed to be at on account that he was maybe dying, and he wasn’t close enough with Allison to just hangout at her house. He didn’t have anywhere to go and he didn’t want to be alone. Once he pulled up to the building he kind of just sat in his car for a while. But then he received a text from Derek.

 

_You can come up here_

Stiles grabbed his backpack and phone and slammed the door to his Jeep. By the time he got to Derek’s loft the door was wrenched open and the wolf was standing in the living room, a large book in his hand.

            “Everyone’s busy and I figured you have no life so I’d come here,” Stiles said and dropped heavily to the couch.

            “You look like hell,” Derek said. “Did you try to practice today?”

Stiles threw his head backwards and sighed. “Coach kicked me out of practice because I couldn’t run without five minutes without losing my lunch everywhere,” he threw an ashamed arm over his face, “it happened three times.”

Derek came up behind Stiles on the couch and laid his hand his shoulder when part of his skin was exposed. The black veins began to run up his arms immediately. Stiles sighed in relief once Derek let go.

            “Thanks,” Stiles said. “Scott looks kind of like my boyfriend at school instead of Allison’s because he just goes around holding my hand to take the pain.

            “Scott and Allison are back together?” Derek questioned, taking a seat in a chair across from Stiles.

            “You can sit on the couch with me you know, I don’t bite. I’m not the one with the fangs.”

Derek rolled his eyes and stood up to take a seat on the right cushion, Stiles sat on the left, one cushion between them.  “Of course Scott and Allison are back together, how could they not be after the whole ‘I’m gonna use my very last breaths to tell you I love you thing’ and then she ends up not dying. You think Isaac and Kira wanted to date those people? You think those people didn’t want to date each other?” Stiles shook his head. “Of course the girl I’m in love with is probably dead.”

            “She’s not dead, Stiles,” Derek said. “You’d know it if she was.”

Stiles furrowed his brows, not comprehending. “How?”

            “Deaton said she was your tether, or like your anchor, right? When you did the sacrifices?”

Stiles nodded. “I just thought it meant that they had to be someone you cared about.”

            “Yes, but a deep connection. Deaton is like a father to Scott, Isaac cared so much for Allison, and you love Lydia. It means each of those people who were your tether is connected to you forever. If Lydia dies, you’ll feel like something is ripping you apart.”

            “You never think about sugarcoating anything do you?” Stiles shook his head.

            “There’s no sugarcoating in the supernatural, the enemy won’t sugarcoat you so your friends shouldn’t either.”

Stiles laughed. “Oh, we’re friends now?”

            “You’ve slept on my couch almost every night for the last month, if we’d been friends before we’d be more than friends now.”

Stiles’ face felt warmer, he fidgeted in his spot. “So she’s not dead, then what’s he still doing with her?”

Derek sighed. “A number of things. Banshees have a lot of power. They don’t look like much but they are. They’re also tied to the spirit world, he’s using her for something, we just have to figure it out first before he completes it.”

            “Nothing’s happening. The police have no leads, they haven’t found her car, there’s no credit card purchases, nothing. Who’s to say they’re even in beacon hills?”

Then, out of nowhere Derek and Stiles’ phones both started going off. Stiles grabbed his phone off the table and saw a text message from his dad Derek had one from Argent.

            “They found Lydia’s car,” the said in unison. Stiles’ head snapped up. “I have to go to the station.”

            “I’m coming with you, I’ll drive,” Derek said.

 

            “Where’s my dad?” Stiles demanded as soon as he and Derek walked through the door.

Deputy Parrish nodded towards the Sheriff’s office. Stiles said no more and took long strides to the office to reach his father faster, Derek followed behind him.

            “Where did you find it? How did you find it? Did you find any clues? Where did you find it?”

The Sheriff was staring at photographs on his desk with his head in one of his hands. He looked up at his son and sighed. “Stiles, just take a breath for a second.”

            “No, Dad this is the only clue we’ve had in weeks.”

            “Argent found it in the reserve, but we’d looked there already, all over. We didn’t find anything remember?”

            “I’ve done a full sweep of the reserve every week,” Derek said. “I’d know if she was there or the car was there.”

The Sheriff nodded. “So would we. The car was planted there.”

            “Well did you even try to look around?”

The Sheriff nodded. “Yes, twice.”

Derek noticed how the Sheriff had stopped leafing through the pile of photos on his desk. Derek knew he was hiding something.

            “What else did you find in the car?” Derek asked.

The Sheriff looked up and he sent a subtle glare Derek’s way. “Well,” he cleared his throat.

            “Dad,” Stiles persisted. “What did you find?”

“We’re still getting a DNA sample, we don’t know if its hers and-,” he didn’t have to say anymore, Stiles saw the corner of a photograph on the desk. He snatched it immediately, as soon as he looked at the containments of the photo he felt like he was going to throw up. His hands started shaking and he held the photo out in front of him like it was tainted. It was a picture of Lydia’s car, and the inside was covered in blood.

 

            He’d had two panic attacks in the span of the last ten minutes. He couldn’t get them under control. There was nothing anyone could say that could make him feel better. Lydia’s car was bathed in her blood; there were handprints on the windows and seats, small enough to be hers. His dad had brought him water and sat him down and Derek focused on trying to get his breaths back to normal but nothing was effective.

            “No, she can’t-,” he panted, “she can’t be,” his throat constricted.

Derek knelt down and gripped Stiles’ shoulders. “Stiles, listen to me. What did I tell you earlier?”

Stiles couldn’t recall it, all he could think about was Lydia and how much of her blood had been spilt.

            “I told you, you’d know if she was dead. Do you feel like something is tearing you apart?”

            “Yes,” Stiles almost folded over in grief.

            “Stiles, do you feel like something is physically tearing you apart? Are you in tremendous pain?”

            “You mean more than my usual?” Stiles rasped.

Derek touched his knee. “Focus on my voice, focus on my breaths. She is not dead. I told you, you would know. This is just a normal panic attack, a normal response. She’s not dead, Stiles. I promise she’s not.”

Stiles looked up from his lap at Derek with blurry eyes. “You swear?” he questioned.

Derek nodded. “I wouldn’t sugarcoat it.”

Stiles started to calm down a bit then. “That doesn’t mean the blood isn’t hers.”

            “We’re ordering a DNA test right now, it should be back tomorrow.”

Derek stood up and looked at the Sheriff. “We don’t need a DNA test, I’ve got this,” he pointed to his nose.

 

            They had Lydia’s car in lock up because now it was evidence in the current missing person’s investigation. Stiles and Derek followed the Sheriff out to the back warehouse.

            “Stiles, the scene is a lot worse in person. You might just want to let Derek looked and uh, sniff around.”

Stiles shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine,” he lied.

The Sheriff opened the back door and he’d been right, the sight was perplexing. Stiles had seen werewolves vomiting black, the face of a darach, but he was never prepared for the sight of that much blood.

            “I’m catching her scent,” Derek said. Stiles’ heart thudded horror. “But it’s not her blood, it’s some kind of animal,” Derek confirmed.     

            “Like supernatural?” the Sheriff said. “A kanima?”

Stiles let out a relieved breath. “No kanimas, dad. So it’s not her blood?”

Derek went to say no but as soon as he moved to pull his head out of the car, her scent hit his lips again. “No, her blood’s in here,” Derek came out. He shook his head in disbelief. “But it’s like a drop. Its as if he took a small amount of her blood to catch me off guard, to make me think it was hers,” he looked up at Stiles’ terrified face. “Stiles, don’t panic. It’s less than what it takes to fill up a syringe. He probably pricked her with a needle, dropped it in here. He thought Scott would be the one to sniff around. Scott isn’t as good at this as I am. She’s fine. I promised, remember?”

Stiles nodded rapidly. “Yeah,” he swallowed, “so what now?”

The Sheriff shook his head. “I don’t know. We found her car but we still have no leads, other than the fact that we know they’re still in town.”

            “Beacon Hills isn’t that big, dad. You should be turning over buildings and searching in houses and cars and basements, you should be looking for her right now!” Stiles yelled.

            “Stiles, I’ve got men out there right now. Parrish just left to go help. I know this is frustrating. I know and I’m sorry.”

Stiles slammed Lydia’s car door. “This is doing nothing for me. I want to go home.”

            “I’ll drive you,” his dad said.

            “No,” Stiles said angrily. “I left some stuff at Derek’s, the Jeep’s there. I’ll drive myself.”

Derek protested. “You don’t look like you should be driving home. You’re getting bad again.”

            “Then I’ll stay at your place and drive home tomorrow,” he walked away.

 

            He was falling asleep two minutes into the drive. His head lulled on the passenger side resting, his eyes drooping heavily.

            “You wouldn’t have been able to drive home at all,” Derek chuckled. “You shouldn’t take it out on your dad, they are doing everything they can.”

Stiles huffed tiredly. “I know. When did you get so mature?”

Derek shrugged. “Since you guys came around.”

 

            “You don’t have to sleep on the couch you know,” Derek said. “You sleep in my bed.”

Stiles pouted. “Where are you going to sleep?”

            “In my bed. I said you could sleep there, not that you could have it,” Derek smiled. “I won’t bite, even if I am the one with the fangs.” His eyes were alight with playfulness.

Stiles kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his sweatshirt. “Do you snore?” Stiles asked.

Derek shook his head. “No, but you do.”

Stiles’ cheeks grew red but he climbed in the bed anyway, even after Derek pulled off his shirt and stepped into a pair of sweatpants. Stiles tried not to stare when he climbed in next to him. They were silent for a while. Suddenly Stiles wasn’t tired anymore, his eyes were wide open as he lay next to the wolf. “I shouldn’t be here,” Stiles said.

            “You don’t have to stay,” Derek replied.

Stiles turned over to face him. “No, I shouldn’t be alive. I should be dead by now, right? I feel like I should have died weeks ago.”

            “I’ve never seen a nogitsune possession before. I can’t tell you whether you should be dead or alive but I’m glad you’re not dead,” Derek confessed. “Do you know why I never say anything about you staying the night?” he waited for Stiles to respond before going on. “I like having you here, Stiles. I like you,” Derek huffed. “I know you love her.”

            “I do,” Stiles replied. “But there’s something here,” he sat up and put his head in his hands. “I’ve been feeling bad about this for about a week now.”

Derek grabbed Stiles’ shoulder and turned him towards him. “Don’t do it anymore,” Derek leaned in, searching Stiles’ eyes for consent but Stiles was the one to start the kiss. It was just a quick peck before Stiles’ guilt took over. He pushed Derek away. “I can’t. I love her.”

Derek nodded. “I know. When she comes back, if things don’t turn out the way you think they should. I’ll be here.”

Stiles nodded. “I can still sleep in the bed, right? Your couch is torture.”

Derek laughed. “Of course.”

 

            Stiles went to bed feeling guilty but the feeling was nothing like what he felt while asleep.  He was dreaming about a lake with a view when Lydia’s voice ripped through his mind.

            “Stiles,” she called, hushed at first. Her sob happened next. “Stiles, save me. Find me.”

            And then she screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can follow me at [niggletsune](niggletsune.tumblr.com)


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